


Bird Song

by mandaree1



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Adora and Catra's weird relationship, All the good stuff lol, Catra has to ask Bright Moon for help, Catra's Issues, Jealousy, Mentions of original places but they don't actually go there, Mild blackmail, Named for the song yeah, Post Season 1, Scorpia being her sweet self, She is Not Pleased about that, Which include:, fears of abandonment, infected wounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-09-29 08:10:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17199791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandaree1/pseuds/mandaree1
Summary: Catra finds herself pulled between two forces when Scorpia is enlisted into a mission that will get her killed- her ambitions, and her refusal to break a promise.





	1. Part 1

_Well I didn't tell anyone, but a bird flew by.  
_ _Saw what I'd done.  
_ _He set up a nest outside,_ _and he sang about what I'd become._

* * *

Catra's mouth is hanging open as she exits into the hallway, an irritated quip about meetings on the tip of her tongue, only to find it empty. Scorpia's scent is still fresh, and she follows it down and around the corner. Scorpia wasn't driven like the average soldier, didn't want to scramble to the top or die trying. She just wanted to make friends and draw and _it shouldn't worry her that she wandered off, it shouldn't_ , and if she picks up the pace it's because she's pissed at not having her typical escort, that's all.

It's not hard to find Scorpia. She smells like the Black Garnet- metallic and heady and it's like that sticky oil film you get on your skin, only it's in Catra's _nose._ She's also talking- to Kyle, of all people.

"Huh," she's saying, rubbing the tip of a claw along her chin thoughtfully. "So _that's_ what it means. Thanks for the help!"

Kyle swallows and nods. He's visibly sweating. It's hard to say if he's scared of Scorpia or just anxious about being called out by a Force Captain or both. Kyle's kind of a wreck like that. "S-sure thing."

Catra's claws slide out, digging into her palms. Somewhere, deep inside, there's a child in her heart, and it's screaming _mine mine mine, you can't have her, she's my friend._ It's stupid. Scorpia's loyal to a fault, and she clearly likes Catra. Catra trusts her for that, enough so to bring her up to speed on her numerous plans. Plans that, in the wrong ears, could easily get Catra in a whole lot of trouble.

Scorpia isn't _her_.

That doesn't stop Catra from stalking over to them, her tail winding around Scorpia's waist as she glared Kyle down. "Don't you have something better to do, _cadet_?"

Kyle lets out a little 'eep' and salutes. "Yes, ma'am, Second-in-Command Catra! My apologies!" He turns and shuffles off. Catra's surprised he got up the guts to not sprint.

"Nice guy," comments Scorpia, but Catra relaxes at the way her face brightens at her tail. Scorpia knows not to touch it by now, but the fact that _its_ touching _her_ makes her over the moon. "Sorry about that, Catra. I got a little confused about Horde terminology."

Catra's nose wrinkles. "You could've just asked me."

"I know, I know." She awkwardly scratched the back of her head. "But I know you get super bored at meetings, and I didn't want to bug you."

Well, shit. What can Catra say to that?

"Whatever."

* * *

The next time Catra catches her, it's Lonnie she's talking to. Catra wants to step out like she did before, but Lonnie is a lot stronger than Kyle, and the last thing she needs is rumors of some cadet getting a hit in on her.

God, she hates Lonnie.

Scorpia is gesturing vaguely, and Lonnie is leaning away, like Scorpia's claws worry her. If the Princess notices, she doesn't call her out on it. "I just figured it'd only be fair to give you guys an out, that's all."

Lonnie scowls. "We're not cowards. Not like Adora."

Catra wants to smack her. No one is allowed to say Adora's name. Not if she has anything to do with it. Only Catra was allowed to spit her name like it was a curse, to rake her claws across her smug face. She was the one betrayed the most. _She's_ the one who earned it.

"I understand," Scorpia says, far more patiently than Catra would've. "But this isn't just some random battle. I'm not gonna ask you and your friends to follow me when you don't even like me, let alone respect me."

Lonnie doesn't argue Scorpia on her point. She just shrugs. "We all knew we were goners the moment Adora left. Rogelio and I can hold our own, sure, but a troop is nothing if it's missing members. At least we got far enough to go at The Drop, y'know?" She attempts a smile. "They put fallen names on a wall in main square. That's pretty dope."

Catra takes a half-step back, eyes wide. Not The Drop. Anything but The Drop. It's a dead zone in the middle of Etheria- no Horde group that's gone there has ever come back. She claws at her throat, trying to find the air to call out, to challenge them. It doesn't come.

Scorpia smiles back. It's far more genuine. "Whoa, that _is_ pretty cool! Maybe, if we get far enough, they'll even put little pictures next to our names!"

* * *

"So," Catra starts, leaning her chin on the back of the office chair Entrapta loves to spin in. It reeks of her even now, long hairs sticking to the back like glue. She wonders, idly, if it hurts when the Princess sheds. "What do you know about The Drop?"

Entrapta stops her blowtorch and pulls her mask and goggles up. "Never heard of it."

"Scorpia hadn't either. I overheard her talking to Kyle about it."

"Who?"

"The wimpy cadet."

"Ahhhh, him. He's not much of a specimen, but he does have a habit of carrying small, shiny rocks in his pockets. They're quite pretty." The Princess turns to her fully, which is how Catra knows she means business, sitting on a lump of hair. "It could very well be a misnomer."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Slang," she said. "Scorpia and I were both raised with completely different vocabularies than the average Horde soldier." Entrapta pulled a small metal ball out of her pocket. One poke and the map of Etheria shimmered in a hologram above it. "Point it out for me?"

Catra does. It looks weird even there, covered by the shade of the mountain nearby. Catra's never been, but she's heard stories of jagged rocks and massive, empty spaces of dust and rot from battles.

"Ah," Entrapta breathes, closing it. "Well, then. This could be a problem."

"You know it, then?"

"Oh, yes. We call it Micah's Plunge." Entrapta pulls out a recorder, then hesitates to hit the button, which scares Catra far more than anything else. Entrapta _hates_ going off-the-record. "It's where one of the first battles for Etheria took place. King Micah died there- as a result, Bright Moon has become very protective over the land." Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Why? Are you-"

"Not me. Scorpia."

"Oh."

Catra massages her brow. Scorpia can't do this. She isn't allowed to. There's no way she's going to let her go to her actual, literal death over a bit of land that has next to no resources and is only being fought over because it got attached to a man with a fancy title who probably went out like a wuss anyway.

No one's going to leave her ever again. That was the whole point of being made Second-in-Command.

"Shit," Catra says eventually. "They're purging my old squadron. And Scorpia got put in charge."

Entrapta's hair slowly lowers her to the floor, as if she was afraid the strands would give out on her. She set her hands on her knees and took in a deep breath. "I, uh... I always wondered- wanted. I always _wanted_ to do a study on the five stages of grief." Her voice is shaky as she pulls out yet another recorder. "I just never suspected I would be the subject."

Catra stands up. The very tip of her tail is twitching. "Fuck that. I'm gonna tell Hordak to call it off."

"You really think he will?"

"Yes."

* * *

"I can't do that, Second-in-Command Catra."

Catra considered her options. This was an outright refusal, so pressing would probably only get her into trouble. Backing out would mean Scorpia... no. Nope. Not allowed. She lowered her head closer to the floor, ignoring the hot shame flourishing in her cheeks. "Please reconsider, Lord Hordak. Scorpia has proven to be very useful. Her loyalty and strength are of great use to the Horde."

"She is quite loyal," he replied, stroking that little gremlin thing. "But her heart is not into her work. I do not doubt that she could be swayed into the rebellion very easily, and the info she holds would be very damning in Bright Moon's hands." He paused, studying her. Catra didn't look up. "I know you are fond of her, Catra-"

"Sir, I would never let my personal attachments get in the way of-"

"Save it. Personal attachment is inevitable. It's a weakness every soldier has inside. The real test is what you do when those attachments are threatened." Hordak tapped his metal claws on the chair, drawing her eye. "Shadow Weaver was too sentimental toward the traitor, and it was her undoing."

Catra bared her teeth. "Shadow Weaver _deserved_ what she got. Scorpia is easy to control. I can-"

"That's my point. _Too_ easy." To her horror, Hordak stood. A million scenarios flashed behind her eyes as he came closer, most of which were violent, but all he did was rest his palm on the back of her head. "I understand how you feel, Second-in-Command Catra. But if you wish to keep that title, I would suggest considering this a test of _your_ loyalty to _me_." Catra shuddered. "Let Scorpia go, Catra. She is easy to replace."

Her eyes felt hot and wet, but she rapidly blinked that away. She could only imagine what punishment she'd receive from crying. If Hordak was anything like Shadow Weaver, it'd be too kind to expect him to just kill her.

"Yes, sir."


	2. Part 2

_He sang so loud, sang so clear, I was afraid all the neighbours would hear._  
_So I invited him in, just to reason with him._  
_I promised I wouldn't do it again._

* * *

"So," Entrapta said. "That's it, then."

Catra's gained a bit of a habit of fiddling with stray locks of the woman's hair, and she has to carefully put the lock back in order to avoid doing some very real damage. She drags her claws on the metal wall of the cell next, hoping to let some of her anger out. "I don't like that tone."

The familiar click of a recorder tells Catra her voice has just been logged for later use. "What tone of voice should I use?"

"I dunno, just- stop making it sound like it's over, alright?" Her tail lashes, hitting the wall. "Like hell am I gonna let this happen."

Entrapta glanced at her over her shoulder. She was back to half-looking as she did whatever she was doing to the control panels. It was a fairly normal dynamic between them; but the recent news had soured it somehow. Made it wrong. "It's not like you can tell Hordak no."

"I'm not _telling_ Hordak anything." Catra spun her chair around, leaning over Entrapta with a scowl. "You're a literal genius, Entrapta. You have to have _some_ idea of what we can do."

The Princess bit her lip thoughtfully and looked away. "Not really. Not unless you know of some secret group where Horde soldiers can escape to."

Catra's eyes widened. "I... might have something like that."

"Please tell me you aren't talking about-"

"Look, it'd work, okay? I can play her like a fiddle." She backed away and crossed her arms. "How long can you loop footage of me doing stuff so no one gets suspicious?"

Entrapta barked out a laugh. "Eternity. You could die and I would be able to get _at least_ five to seven years of mileage out of camera reels."

"Creep factor aside, I need you to do that for me." She whirled around and went for the door. The smell of Entrapta's machines covered most anything else, making her feel dizzy. Catra told herself that was why she was feeling the way she was about visiting Adora. She didn't doubt it'd work out- it always did- but she always came out of it confused and a bit exhausted. "I'll be back in, like, a day tops. Don't tell Scorpia where I've-"

Catra reached for the door just in time for it to slide open, revealing Scorpia. The Second-in-Command let out a shriek and jumped a good half-mile up and backwards, tail fluffing like a pinecone.

Scorpia lowered her claw, having clearly just intended to knock. "Oh. Uh, hey, Catra. What's up?" Her brow furrowed. "What can't I know about? Are you scheming without me? Because friends plot mutinies together."

Entrapta was up and across the room in an instant, balancing her hair so she could be eye-to-eye with Scorpia. "ARE YOU SERIOUSLY GOING TO MICAH'S PLUNGE?"

"Damnit, Entrapta, we just talked about this."

"Aw, shucks. Heard about that, did you?" Scorpia let out an awkward laugh. "Yup, looks like it."

"YOU KNOW WHAT MICAH'S PLUNGE IS RIGHT?"

"Of course I do!"

"THEN WHY ARE YOU SO CALM?"

"Entrapta," intervened Catra. "Indoor voice."

"It's fine, Catra." Scorpia's eyes were bright. The Princess seemed surprised anyone had even cared enough to yell. "I mean, it's kind of scary? But I never fit in with the Princesses, and I was never really Horde material, either. I'm big and buff, sure, but that's about it. So I'm not all that surprised. If this is how I go out, helping the people who took in my family, then I'm alright with that."

"That is absolutely _not_ alright," Catra broke in, trying to ignore the inner-child screaming that Scorpia was hers and Entrapta was hers and if Hordak thought even death would negate that then he was a bigger idiot than she originally thought. "That is, like, _illegal_ levels of not alright."

Scorpia paused, examining her. "Are you... plotting to get me out of it?"

Catra didn't respond.

"It's okay, I swear. I mean, I'm sorry I have to take your old friends-" _Not mine_ , tiny Catra wailed, _**you're** mine_\- "But I checked out that big statue of names in the square and it's pretty legit. I'm... okay with it."

"I'm _not_."

"Catra-"

"Scorpia." Her shoulders hunched, voice lowering an octave. "I think I can help, but I need to know where your loyalty lies- Hordak, or me."

"That's a funny question." Baffled, Scorpia tilted her head to the side. "You know I'd follow you anywhere, Catra."

* * *

In another universe, the destruction of the Whispering Woods would open up a straight pathway to Bright Moon. But that's not necessarily the case; not when you're one Horde soldier in a land of rebels. Catra kept her ears pricked as she ducked between the few remaining trees. The smell of melted ice and plant decay is pungent, but for once she doesn't mind the earthy flavor. It makes her proud.

They did this. _She_ did this.

Her elation vanished as she came upon the castle. It looked the exact same as it had before. Catra supposed that wasn't shocking- they had magic on their side, after all. Ears flat, she took in a big whiff of air. Even after all this time, Adora still smelled like metal and smoke, making her easy enough to trace. Years of Horde life weren't eradicated by a few months in a fancy land of Princesses.

(She doesn't smell like Catra, she noticed with some distaste. Not anymore.)

Catra climbs up the back of the castle, clinging desperately to the rock wall. She can feel the sharp stones cut into her fingers and she clenches her teeth, too stubborn to find another way. It leads her directly into a room that, while reeking of Adora, is clearly not hers. Catra notes a bed hung in the air and wonders, not for the first time, exactly what Adora's relation was to that tiny ball of sparkles.

That's whatever. It really, really is. She might be doing whatever with some lame attempt to move on, but she smells like the Horde and that's enough to keep her jealousy to a low simmer. Not now. She can't right now. This isn't about any of that, Hordakdamnit. This is about _Scorpia_ , who matters far more than anything she and Adora may have once had.

Catra carefully slunk through the hallways. They were shockingly empty; presumably, the other guards were busy fixing the damage from the battle. It made it shockingly easy to find Adora's bedroom, marked with the typical flat bed they were used to and a lump of feathers in the corner. Maps and plans littered the table, from various stats of other Princesses to army capabilities. Catra went over to study them, but then a familiar metal gleamed under the edge of her covers. She carefully peeled them back to find her sword.

Oh, this was too good.

* * *

Catra was sharpening her nails and lounging on her bed (and, okay, fine, maybe she liked knowing it would smell like her) when she heard the sounds of boots clunking against the stone floor. Bow was wishing everyone a good rest, and that they'd had a good training session- which would explain why she left the sword- and Glimmer said something about checking in on someone and then they were gone, and Adora was creaking open the door with a long sigh, looking more bedraggled than Catra had ever seen her.

"Hey, Adora."

Adora has never been graceful when startled. It was one of her biggest weaknesses. Catra watched without moving as Adora let out a yelp and tripped over herself, hitting the door with her back. She fell to the floor with a gurgle. A burst of blood hit Catra's nostrils.

"I meant to do that," she said into the silence.

"'Course ya' did." Catra slipped off the bed, twirling the handle of the sword. "This is how it's going to work, Adora. We're going to sit down at that ugly table and talk. And then, when we're done, I'll give this back and go on my merry way. We got a deal?"

Adora lifted her head to glare at her. "How do I know this won't be like the prom?"

"I could've been out of this castle and away from here ages ago now, but I'm here."

"You wouldn't leave with something like my sword without rubbing my nose in it first."

"Adora," Catra purred. "If you're really that worried, why are you still on the floor?"

"I'm strategizing," she said into her arms.

"I can smell the blood. You're hurt, aren't you?" Catra decided to take a risk and crouch down, holding her free hand out. Adora had always been a sucker for that kind of thing. "I won't tell if you won't."

The blonde sighed and took the hand. Catra pulled her to her feet with a single yank, kindly ignoring when she let out a hissed breath. Catra hadn't lied when she said she wouldn't tell anyone, but that by no means exempted her from keeping the info for herself and using it later. "What happened? Wayward arrow from your little friend?"

"Don't play coy, Catra."

Her ears flattened out. "What's _that_ supposed to mean?"

Adora didn't reply. She brushed past, collapsing onto her bed with a sigh. The traitor yanked her shirt up and tossed it at her, then got to work unraveling some grungy yellow bandages. Catra caught the shirt and tossed it aside, trying to seem disinterested as she wandered over, sword dragging on the floor. The last wrapping fell without any real applause, showing off a set of angry red clawmarks.

"Oh," Catra said. "That's what you meant."

"Stop sounding so smug and hand me that roll."

She did so, flopping down behind her. Adora hadn't asked for her help, necessarily, just as Catra hadn't offered it, but it was a natural thing. Catra ran her finger along the edge of one, feeling the heat beneath the scab. They were infected.

Catra can't help the smile that makes itself at home on her face. It was sick, and she recognized it; taking any level of joy out of this situation. But Catra wasn't interested in the long-term pain here. Not physically, anyway. Adora wasn't hers anymore, but she would always carry part of her. The rebellion could surge up and win and she could be brutally killed on some battlefield, but every time She-Ra wore something other than her fancy armor someone would see these marks and ask, and she would have to explain it all over again.

Catra might die, but she wasn't about to be forgotten.

* * *

"Our idiot squadron managed to catch Hordak's attention," Catra says, setting her chin on her hand. Adora is stiff-backed and attentive from her side of the table, but after seeing her wounds Catra knows damn well it's an act. In a way, so was starting off with their old squadron- they were important, she supposed, for nostalgia purposes and the odd mission, but they weren't her main goal. "He's sending them to The Drop."

Adora stares at her for what feels like a solid minute, so long that if not for the horror in her eyes Catra would assume she didn't know what she was talking about. "What the absolute fuck, Catra. Why would he-"

"Because _somebody_ unbalanced the team by leaving."

The warrior scowled. "Don't try to act like you getting promoted didn't play a part in it."

"I _stayed_ , and I've been doing my best to work this shit out. What have _you_ been doing? Playing hero with your technicolor Princess friends?" Catra's tail wound around the blade of her sword. She reminded herself to focus on the situation at hand. "Look. You've got pull around here. You gotta get them out of this."

"I have literally no pull around here."

"Then get some, damnit."

"Did you- did you sneak out of the Fright Zone to tell me to _get a job_?"

"I snuck out because people are going to die because of you!" Catra snarled, slamming her fists down on the table. Adora fell silent. "We both know war is about the legacies we leave behind. So make a choice, Adora. Do you want to be the traitor who let her old mates die, or do you want to play hero some more and take them home?"

Adora looked down. Her shoulders hunched, then returned to their original place with a wince. "Y'know, not too long ago we would've been honored to go to The Drop."

"Yeah, I guess."

"It's funny how that goes, isn't it?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "Things change. You're a traitor, and I'm... _I'm_ _not you_."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Portraying Catra and Adora's relationship is interesting, for sure. Catra and Adora are bonded basically forever thanks to their shared childhood, and even at their most brutal they take risks for one another.
> 
> -Mandaree1


	3. Part 3

_But he sang louder and louder inside the house, and no I couldn't get him out._  
_So I trapped him under a cardboard box- stood on it to make him stop._  
_I picked up the bird and above the din, I said_  
_"That's the last song you'll ever sing."_

* * *

It hurts to leave Adora. Catra hates that wriggling wimp that some might label as her heart for just that reason. _Adora_ ditched her. _Adora_ replaced her. _Adora_...

Adora didn't ask her to stay this time.

(Not that Catra _would_ , of course. The smell of the castle alone is enough to make her feel sick. But Adora has always asked before, and she has always refused, and losing that little routine feels like the final scraps of their friendship are falling out under their feet, leaving them suspended in a war that will ultimately destroy them both.)

(Scorpia has a word for these kinds of thoughts: poetry. Catra has her own: revenge.)

Catra shows absolutely none of those feelings as she strolls into Entrapta's lab-slash-cell, tail and chin high and proud. "Alright, I got it done."

"Oh, that's good," Entrapta says, using her hair to turn around fully. "Because I may or may not have done something that will get me murdered."

It's gotten to the point that this is not an uncommon thing for the Princess. Catra sighs and pinches her nose. "Entrapta, _what did I say_ about sending cleaner robots up the toilets in the cadets quarters? They spook worse than babies."

"No! Well, yes, we had a talk about that- I logged it in my notes- but this is a different kind of getting myself into murder trouble." The remaining strands perched under her behind so she could sit and recount her story. "So, about an hour or so after you left, Hordak visited me and-"

" _Lord Hordak_?"

She paused, squinting at her. "Is there another Hordak?"

"Lord Hordak," Catra repeated. "Came out of his throne room. To talk to _you._ "

"Technically, he was looking for you. He said he'd send out pages for you, but I have trackers in all the communications technology within a five mile radius, so I know he didn't. Then he asked if I knew where you went, and I told him you were on the monitors, and he said he knew I was hacking them, and he'd overheard us talking, and he wanted to know where you were."

The meager food in Catra's stomach began to curdle. It was frighteningly easy to forget that she mattered enough to the Lord of the Horde that he would send his little minion after her. "This isn't good."

Entrapta nodded dutifully. "I said the she you were referring to was another Force Captain, but he said that you didn't talk to any of them except Scorpia. Then he grabbed my hair and threatened to burn it..."

She trailed off.

"Entrapta?"

She twirled her thumbs. "I may... or may not have... told him to fuck off? And that you were my friend and that mattered more to me than my hair, and he kind of... laughed? And left? And I'm not well versed in evildoer lingo, but there's a good chance he's ordering some guards to kill me as we speak."

Catra grabbed her shoulders, claws digging in slightly. " _Tell me you're paraphrasing_. Tell me you didn't tell Lord Hordak, the man who's literally the only reason you get food and a place to sleep, to _fuck off_?"

Entrapta gave a minute shrug. "I was mad."

"...Hordakdamnit, Entrapta. I just did all this bull to get Scorpia _out_ of dying, and now you?" Catra shook herself, squaring her shoulders. "I'll go run interference. Just... don't do anything, okay? Just sit and don't make any trouble."

The Princess had the sense to look ashamed, if nothing else. "You... don't have to do that. I mean, this is my fault."

"No kidding," she snapped, flashing some teeth with the words. "Once this is over, you better make me the biggest, coolest death ray you've ever gotten your hands on. Understand?"

Entrapta perked up. "Ooh, that'll be easy! Ray guns are an old favorite of mine."

"I know," Catra shot over her shoulder, and then she was gone.

* * *

"I was looking for you," Hordak says, deathly quiet, as Catra approaches and bows. "I must say, Second-in-Command Catra, you certainly employ some interesting company."

"My apologies, sir. Entrapta's got a big brain, but a big mouth goes with it."

"I suppose it can't be helped," he sighed. "Even the best soldier or scientist has some drawbacks. Still. You're very lucky she's not dead right now, Second-in-Command Catra."

"Yes, sir."

"This has also proven to be quite the learning experience," Hordak went on, and Catra reluctantly raised her head to look at him. Even after being in his close ranks for some time, it was hard to distance herself from that scared cadet being dragged in by her arm. She half-expected Shadow Weaver to appear and knock some sense into her- but she's no longer a threat, and it's entirely thanks to Catra, and she takes what little reassurance she can from that. "Your little Princess is very loyal to you."

"Her loyalty is to science, sir. As long as she has things to tinker with, she won't be a problem."

"Yes, true, but it's more than that. She desires company. She's chosen that company to be _you_." Hordak stood and treaded lightly over to her. "Understand this. _I know what you've done_. But I admire your ability to make certain that you will be needed, and I appreciate your strategies, and for that reason alone I will abide by you. For now. You will outlive your usefulness, as everyone does, and your punishment then will be ten times harsher than whatever your mind can come up with. Have I made myself clear?"

Catra, heart in her throat, saluted. "Yes, sir," she squeaked.

"Then get some rest, Second-in-Command Catra. Things are still going to move as planned, regardless of your long excursion." He turned away, a gesture Catra took as her leave.

She tried not to think too hard of how deeply her claws could puncture someone's back, and how vulnerable Hordak made himself, whether he realized it or not. That was a plan for future Catra. That was a _worry_ for future Catra.

Present Catra has her shit together. That's what matters.

* * *

"The Princess Alliance is going to be waiting for you," is what Catra decides is a good greeting as she walks up to her old squadron and Scorpia, each quietly putting their armor and weapons on. "As long as you don't fight, they're going to take you all back to Bright Moon. You'll be a prisoner, but you'll be alive."

"Um," Scorpia says hesitantly, no doubt about to bring up her rocky relationship with Princesses in the past.

" _You're not allowed to leave me_ ," she hissed. Scorpia fell silent. "I'll- I'll get you out, okay? Those suckers are all wimps anyway- their idea of prison'll be ten times better than the average bunk. It'll be whatever."

"Whatever?" Lonnie interrupts, stepping closer, and what little of a good mood she had left vanished from Catra. "You're talking major treason, Catra!"

"It's an order, _cadet_ ," she snarled, going nose to nose with the girl. She hated Lonnie almost as much as she hated- hated _her_. At least Adora didn't shove her weight around like Lonnie did. If Lonnie had defected, Catra would've thrown a party. (Why couldn't it have been Lonnie?) "Your _Second-in-Command_ is telling you to infiltrate the enemies base and gather information in the guise of a hostage situation."

"But-"

"You're lucky. If I had it my way, you'd be on some crummy wall."

"I'd rather be on some 'crummy wall' then end up like-"

"If you say her name I swear to Hordak I will rip your entrails out and wear them like a necklace!"

Kyle cleared his throat. "T-Thank you, Second-in-Command Catra. I really appreciate this second ch-"

Catra cut him off at the pass. "Shut up, you big coward. You would've probably ran away anyway." Scorpia gently touched her shoulder, looking on the verge of tears. She took in a deep breath. "Get moving. You'll be late for transport."

Lonnie shook her head and took off in a sprint. Kyle gave a little wave. Rogelio saluted her with his pointer and middle finger and disappeared after them. Something uncomfortably warm squeezed her insides. Catra refused to label it, lest that label be sorrow or regret. They had never been much to her. Having last-second feelings just because they grew up together was just a lame attempt at self-pity.

"I meant all of you," she said finally.

Scorpia didn't budge. "Thank you, Catra. I'll never forget this."

Her eyes flicked to her, then away. Just the flash of her red claws made Catra want to beg her to stay. "Yeah, yeah." Scorpia's claw awkwardly touched her cheek. "Scorpia, I'm not giving you a goodbye hu-"

Scorpia kissed her.

Catra was a very graceful person- at least, in theory. She could climb most anything and walk tightropes with ease. This was not one of those moments. Instead, she jerked and almost fell right on her ass. Scorpia grabbed and steadied her.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly. Now Scorpia was the one who wouldn't meet her eye. "I shouldn't have done that so suddenly like that."

"Uh," Catra says in response, hardly even blinking.

The Princess stepped back, saluted, and turned to follow Catra's childhood in leaving her behind. "I would do the same for you, you know."

And Catra, ever-so-smart and cunning, came to a slow realization as she tried to sleep that night; Scorpia and Entrapta were hers, yes, but perhaps- just maybe- Catra was theirs as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends! Catra is the human equivalent of a flaming garbage barge mentally to me- through no fault of her own (thanks SW). She zigzags between being possessive and trying to shove them away, especially when she realizes the feelings are returned. It's rlly interesting portraying the dynamics between herself and the other characters! I also tried to add some cat things to her as well (scent-marking, for instance) 
> 
> Til next time!
> 
> -Mandaree1

**Author's Note:**

> Kicking this three-parter off with a bang! This is mostly just a Catra character study, fiddling with her ambitions and fears and what makes her do what and the like.
> 
> -Mandaree1


End file.
